Battleaxe (19 page)

Timozel gripped Faraday’s hand tightly as they followed Jack and Yr. He was a Champion and he would lead great armies; there was no need to fear this blue light.

As soon as they stepped through the archway into the Chamber of the Star Gate, their ears were buffeted by the sound of a gale, although not a breath of wind touched their faces.

Faraday’s first impression, after she had adjusted to the sound, was that the chamber was a smaller, if more exquisite, version of the Chamber of the Moons in the palace of Carlon. It was perfectly circular and surrounded by pillars and archways. Each of the pillars was carved from translucent white stone in the shape of a naked, winged man. Most of the men stood with their heads bowed and arms folded across their chests, wings lifted and outstretched so as to touch those of the men next to them, their touching wingtips forming the apex of the archways. Faraday noticed that an entire section of pillars across the far side of the chamber were different. These winged men had their heads up and their eyes wide open, golden orbs staring towards the centre of the chamber, their arms uplifted in joy with their wings. She did not have to count to know that there were twenty-six.

“Faraday,” Timozel whispered, and when she turned to look at him he pointed towards the vaulted ceiling of the chamber. Blue shadows leaped and chased each other across the white stone vault. Like demons, Timozel thought.

“Oh!” Faraday gasped, “it’s beautiful!”

“It is not there you should be looking, lovely lady, but beneath the shadows,” said Jack, standing in the middle of the archway they had come through, his extended arm indicating what looked like the low rim of a large circular pool which occupied the centre space of the floor.

Faraday walked towards the pool, dragging a reluctant Timozel with her. She was almost breathless with excitement. A few paces from the pool Timozel baulked; he would go no further. Faraday let Timozel’s hand go and walked to the rim, it was about knee height and wide enough to sit on comfortably. Without hesitation or a backward glance, Faraday sat down. Deep blue light pulsed across her face and reflected far above on the stone vault.

Faraday’s lips parted and her eyes widened. For a few moments she forgot to breathe. Yr and Jack joined her at the rim, and for long minutes all three stared transfixed into the Star Gate.

The circular pool contained no water; instead, to all intents and purposes, it contained the universe. The real one, not the faint shadow that lights the night sky. Stars reeled and danced, suns chased each other across galaxies, moons dipped and swayed through planetary systems, luminous comets threaded their mysterious paths through the cosmos. The sound of vast interstellar winds roared out into the chamber and a luminous deep blue light pulsed through the Star Gate. Its depths stretched into infinity.

Faraday opened her mouth to say something to Jack, sitting next to her, but there were no words to describe what she saw. She started to cry through sheer wonder at the incredible beauty and majesty of the Star Gate. No wonder the Icarii worshipped here and, when they could not be here, worshipped the Star Gate’s reflection in the night sky. Artor paled into utter insignificance for Faraday as she battled to come to terms with what she saw. Nothing she had been taught about Artor and the Way of the Plough could compare with this. She envied with every fibre of her being the Enchanter-Talons who had stepped through this Gate. What incredible joy they must have felt as they slid over the rim of the pool and into infinity! Perhaps even now they joined the stars themselves as they danced through the
universe. “Ah,” she moaned, longing to join them, wondering if she would be good enough for the Gate to accept her. Her hands stretched towards the Star Gate.

Jack’s arm slid about her shoulders. “No, sweet one. No, do not be tempted. It is not for you or I to step through this Gate. Only an Icarii Enchanter powerful beyond telling could ever hope to survive.”

Faraday dragged her eyes away from the Star Gate and looked at Jack. His cheeks showed the trail of tears as well. “So, it is not only the dead Enchanter-Talons who go through?”

Jack thought carefully before he replied. “No. It is said that one day the Icarii will breed an Enchanter powerful enough to journey through the Gate and manage to come back out again. I do not know what he would find there.”

Or what he
did
find there, he thought. His eyes slipped momentarily to the line of twenty-six statues whose arms were uplifted in joy.

Faraday’s eyes had drifted back to the Star Gate and she did not notice Jack’s glance. “I do not know why he would ever want to come back out again,” she whispered.

“It is good that you have seen this,” Jack said quietly. “It will help you through the next years of your life. Remember it always.”

“Always,” Faraday echoed fiercely, and then Jack was pulling her back from the brink and handing her to Timozel who still refused to look into the Gate. “Keep her back, now, lad,” Jack said, and Timozel nodded, annoyed at being called lad, but pleased that Jack had entrusted Faraday to his care.

Jack returned to the stone rim surrounding the Star Gate and spoke quietly to Yr, who still sat enraptured by the Gate. After a moment she reluctantly inclined her head and stood up, following Jack back to where Timozel and Faraday waited.

“Do each of these archways lead to a Barrow?” Timozel asked as Jack drew level with him. “There are more archways than Barrows.”

“Only some of them lead to the Barrows. Others lead…elsewhere. The Icarii needed access to the Star Gate through doorways other than those of the Barrows of the Enchanter-Talons.
And then there are others who ply their way to and from the Star Gate and use corridors still stranger than those the Icarii used. Come, make sure Faraday follows, and I will lead us out through another passage.”

Jack took Yr’s hand and led them towards one of the arches surrounded by sleeping winged men. As they passed under, Faraday roused, turning for one last look at the Chamber of the Star Gate.

“Why did they put wings on these men, Jack? Is it meant to symbolise their status as StarFarers?”

Jack turned around, his disbelief making him laugh a little. Did she not understand? “Symbolise? No, sweet heart, these pillars are accurate representations of the Icarii. Sweet lady, the Icarii are winged people.”

I
f the climb down to the Star Gate was hard, the ascent was a nightmare.

The stairwell that had led down from the tomb to the Star Gate had been made of well-crafted stone, but the stone corridor Jack took them through to escape the Star Gate quickly degenerated into nothing more than a tunnel carved out of the living earth, only the occasional wooden strut looming out of the dark to relieve the uncertain lines of the earthen walls. As they gradually came closer to the surface, deep tree roots pierced the walls of the tunnel and water dripped down from the roof. Caught in the fold of a cloak or a skirt and then sucked free, the moisture provided only bare relief from thirst. Along with the moisture, great chunks of earth also fell periodically from the roof. To preserve light Jack allowed only one lamp to glow at any given time and Faraday clung close to Timozel as they stumbled over the uneven floor, terrified that the tunnel would collapse on her at any moment.

According to Jack, and how he knew neither Faraday nor Timozel could fathom, it took them the best part of a day and a night to
reach the surface. Jack explained that their ascent was taking a great deal longer because this particular tunnel led them to a spot far distant from the Barrows. It was the tunnel he had used on his previous three journeys to the Star Gate, he said, and had once been in much better repair—it had, in fact, been one of the main entrance ways to the Star Gate for the Icarii. But with the passing centuries the tunnel was slowly collapsing in on itself.

Faraday found herself spending long stretches of time thinking of her mother. Silent tears welled and flowed down her cheeks, and she brushed them aside, trying to be strong.

Timozel hardly spoke during their ascent. He stayed close by Faraday’s side, lying down beside her to keep her warm whenever Jack called a rest and supporting her as they floundered through the dark tunnel, but unusually reticent whenever Faraday tried to talk to him.

Finally, when it seemed as though they could not go on, that they’d never see daylight again, they came to a solid earth wall blocking their path.

Timozel pushed past Yr to stand next to Jack, who was running his hands over the wall. “Can your magic get us past this, then?” he rasped, barely managing to get the words out through his parched throat. Timozel’s dislike and distrust of Jack had grown with each step through the dark and dank tunnel.

Jack stared at him flatly. “No magic, boy, but your back and mine. This is the wall, perhaps some two paces thick, that conceals the entrance. We should be able to dig through it with just the two of us. Yr, Faraday, stand back, but be prepared to move quickly when I call.”

Yr and Faraday took several paces back, as Jack began scraping at the wall with his hands, but Timozel put a hand to his shoulder.

“Wait,” he said. He pulled his axe from his weapon belt and started to hew into the earthen wall, standing well back and swinging his entire shoulders into the effort. Jack leaped out of the way as clods of earth flew in every direction.

“Be careful, you fool boy!” he croaked, choking on the loose dirt drifting through the air, “or you’ll bring the whole tunnel down
around our ears.” He hefted his staff in his hand, as if he was debating with himself whether to strike Timozel or the earthen wall.

Timozel took no notice of Jack’s warning and Faraday found herself praying, to whom she did not know or care, that Timozel would break through quickly. She felt as if she would die if she did not stretch her face to the sky soon.

Finally there was a rush of earth and the remaining lamp was smothered in dirt. Timozel stepped back, choking as the earth tumbled about his shoulders.

“Now!” cried Jack. The women hesitated, terrified by the sudden dark and the sounds of the earthfall before them, but both Jack and Timozel reached for their arms and hauled them through the shifting, collapsing mass of earth. For several terrifying heartbeats the four battled through the earthfall, trying as best they could to protect their heads and to prevent too much of the dirt from entering their noses and mouths.

Then, suddenly, miraculously, they were free into cold, grey daylight, stumbling through dry knee-high grass, coughing and choking as they tried to free their throats of dirt.

Faraday collapsed into the grass, retching and choking until she thought that she would vomit her entire stomach up through her mouth. Through her distress she could dimly hear the other three choking and retching as well. Eventually her heaving abated, and she rolled onto her back, wiping her streaming eyes with the backs of her hands. For long minutes Faraday lay still, staring at the clouds scudding across the late afternoon sky, drawing in as much of the clean air as she could manage.

Eventually she sat up, beginning to shiver in the frigid air. The other three were also stirring, wiping the dirt from their faces then running, shaking trembling fingers through their hair to rid it of as much earth as possible. Faraday looked back towards where they had come. There was a low hill in front of her, largely covered with small rosenberry bushes. Part of one side of it looked to have collapsed in on itself and, as she sat looking towards the hill, Faraday thought she could feel faint vibrations through the ground. Jack saw her looking
at her hand as it rested on the ground. “The whole tunnel is collapsing,” he rasped between dry coughs. “We got out just in time.” It was the first time that Faraday had seen him even slightly rattled by events.

Timozel heaved himself to his feet and held out a hand for Faraday. “That we escaped with our lives from such a hole is enough. I care not if the entire Star Gate collapses in on itself. Faraday, are you all right?”

Faraday shook out her cloak and brushed her skirt and blouse as free from dirt as she could. Timozel was strangely calm considering the events of the last few minutes. He seemed older, more certain of himself. There was some undefinable quality about him she had not seen previously. Faraday shrugged, perhaps it was simply the dirt. No doubt they all looked vastly different to what they had several days ago before they had been exposed to storm and mud and a variety of earthfalls.

“Ah, my treasures!” Jack suddenly called happily, his voice stronger. “You have found me!”

Faraday looked up. Trotting across the plain were Jack’s pigs, each and every one of them wearing a large grin of pleasure, their tiny eyes gleaming between rolls of fat. They heaved and grunted and rolled and ambled and almost bowled Jack over with exuberant affection when they reached him. The sight made everyone smile.

Yr turned to Faraday and Timozel. “Well, at least Jack’s happy. But I, dear ones, could use a drink and a wash.”

Jack stood up from petting his pigs. His face wore a huge amiable grin. “There’s a stream not far from here, and we can drink and wash there.”

“Food?” Timozel inquired, slipping his axe back into his weapon belt from where he had dropped it in the grass.

“Ah, well, food is a little further off. I have friends, good folk, some distance from here, who can provide us with food and shelter and, um,” Jack’s eyes slid across to Yr, “clothes. But they are some leagues distant, and we will have to walk most of the night and tomorrow morning to reach them.”

“Isn’t there anywhere closer?” Faraday asked despairingly. She did not think she could walk through the night. Not after the interminable hours spent tramping though the earth tunnel.

“You are going to have to get used to walking, my Lady Faraday,” Yr said dryly, “unless you want to ride one of the pigs.”

Jack led them to a stream some hundred paces away, and they all splashed as much of the dirt from their faces and arms as they could before lying prone along the stream’s banks and slurping up great gulps of water. Jack allowed them a couple of hours to recover, but he wanted them to start moving before night fell. The wind was cold and the sky overcast. If they couldn’t find adequate shelter then the best way to keep warm was to keep moving. None of them were dressed warmly enough to spend a night on the ground.

After they finished drinking, Timozel surprised Faraday by producing a short knife from his boot and asking her to cut his hair for him. It was too long, he complained, and the curls were flopping in his eyes. She did the best she could, hacking away at his thick brown hair with the knife, cutting it so that it lay flat against his scalp. After she finished Timozel took the knife from her hands and scraped away at his two-day-old growth of beard, but without hot water to assist him he left a dark shadow spreading across his cheeks. Sitting back watching him scrub at his cheeks with the knife, Faraday pondered that the Timozel sitting in the deepening dusk seemed vastly older and more self-possessed than the youth she had shared the long ride from Carlon to the ancient Barrows with.

Yr also sat, chin in hand, a thoughtful expression on her face as she regarded Timozel. The experience below had changed him in some undefinable way, she mused, but, unlike Faraday, she wondered if the change was more than just the simple maturing of a youth into a man. The Halls of the StarFarers had done stranger things before than merely make a youth grow up.

During the walk north through the night the small group were buffeted by freezing head winds which made them shiver and
stumble. Jack kept them moving, striding at their head with the staff held high, his pigs trotting along at his heels. Timozel had resumed his appointed place by Faraday’s side, supporting her whenever she lost her footing, and sometimes lending a hand to Yr as well. No-one felt like talking; it took all their energy simply to keep placing one foot in front of the other.

The plains of western Arcness were as barren of life as the plains of Tarantaise had been. Most of these southern plains were used as grazing lands for cattle and sheep during the summer months, but as winter approached the shepherds and cattlemen drove their herds closer to the scattered villages for protection. According to Jack, only a few hardy pig herds still roamed the plains, and even they would be heading for their winter shelters soon enough.

Timozel, when he’d still had breath for conversation, had asked Jack where they were going, and how he planned on getting Faraday to Gorkenfort.

“North,” Jack had replied tersely. “We head north in as direct a line as possible. If we can reach Tailem Bend on the River Nordra we may be able to hire horses at Jervois Landing for the last part of the journey through Ichtar. The route to Gorkenfort is well-marked and Duke Borneheld has, over the past few years, established plentiful supply stations along the way. With luck there should be few problems.”

Timozel asked why Jack and Yr didn’t simply take Faraday to one of the major towns or forts, perhaps Kastaleon, or even back to Carlon, where they could hire the type of transport her rank entitled her to. Jack looked at him as though he were a muddle-headed youth. “Because no-one would understand her desperate desire to reach Borneheld,” he snapped. “They’d do their utmost to prevent her going any further north than the safety of Carlon.”

Timozel nodded quietly to himself. It was the answer he’d expected. He was not at all comfortable with this lonely journey north, and not at all comfortable with the companions that he and Faraday had landed. But if nothing else, Timozel understood Faraday’s wish to be with Borneheld. Every Lady needed her Lord beside her and fretted the days while they were apart.

They had worked out a cover story should anyone meet them by chance in this lonely spot. The Lady Faraday, her maid Yr, and her escort had been heading across the plains of Arcness towards Arcen when they had been hit by the dreadful storm of several days previously. Timozel was the only one of her escort to escape the ice spears. All their horses had been killed. Lost in the featureless rolling plains, they had been spotted by Jack, driving his pigs north to shelter for the winter in the hills of the Bracken Range. Genial good-hearted fellow that he was, Jack was leading them towards closest civilisation, the towns of Rhaetia to the north-west. It was a slender story, but it would have to do.

Jack let them rest again just as dawn was breaking to the east. Faraday had spent the last half a league leaning heavily on Timozel for support, while Yr had started to stumble badly every forty or fifty paces, grazing the skin from her hands and knees as she tumbled to the ground time after time. They huddled together in a tight group in the lee of a small rise, pigs gathered about, trying to keep as warm as they could in the freezing wind. Faraday clenched her chattering teeth. She would have to make the journey worthwhile; Axis’ life depended on her keeping Borneheld’s jealous temper under control. She wondered where Axis might be now, but was too exhausted to pursue the thought. Her head dropped on Timozel’s shoulder and she lapsed into unconsciousness.

No sooner had she closed her eyes than Jack was calling for them to wake up and start walking again. Her aching body protesting, Faraday struggled to her feet. Timozel wrapped his arm about her waist, she was not sure whether to support her or to keep himself upright. Yr, head and shoulders slumped, could barely keep step behind them as they started to walk again. Once or twice Faraday heard a muffled thump behind her, but when she turned her head Yr was struggling to her feet again, a determined look on her smooth face. Jack was the freshest of them all, used to tramping these plains in all kinds of weather, though even he stumbled occasionally.

It was close to mid-morning when Jack finally waved them to a halt. Timozel and Faraday were in such a catatonic state, their bodies
and minds attuned only to putting one foot before the other, that they almost crashed into Jack. Yr likewise stumbled into their backs, and Timozel reached around and put his arm about her to keep her from falling.

“There,” Jack said, his voice showing signs of terrible strain, his hand too tired to do more than wave vaguely before them. “There. Goodman and Goodwife Renkin’s farm.”

Faraday peered ahead. About five hundred paces away lay a small farmlet nestled in a small dip in the plains. Tidy fields and gardens surrounded a long, low stone house, its thatched roof in good repair. A small amount of smoke came from the chimney, only to be whipped away in the gusting wind. She gritted her teeth and started walking. She hoped they had both fire and beds.